


Sakura Blooms

by Caunion



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon Genderbending, F/F, Female James Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caunion/pseuds/Caunion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After obtaining her 00 status, Jane Bond is sent to Seoul to assist in the investigation of the assassination of a British diplomat. With the help of a forensic investigator, she uncovers a nefarious plot by Japan’s strongest Uyoku dantai led by a ruthless but exceptionally keen fanatic to destroy the fragile peace between South Korea and Japan and could send the two nations into war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zürich - 15 December 2014

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this: <http://chiyohinthewind.tumblr.com/post/87835284047/sakura-blooms-after-obtaining-her-00-status>

Wilhelm Bischoff stepped out of his Mercedes-Benz S Class Coupe onto the Utoquai and tightened his cashmere coat around him. While the snow had yet to fall, it was still freezing and the cold still managed to bother him. He nodded at the driver and briefly watched as he drove off to…wherever the hell he went while waiting for him. So long as the car showed up punctually and in pristine condition, he couldn’t care less. On the other hand, he knew exactly where he had to go. Hotel Kauthaus, famed for its proximity to the Züriesse, amazing accommodations, and high end clientele. Like this very hotel Wilhelm had a reputation for high end clientele. In fact he was meeting the first of his newest additions at this very place.

“Good evening, sir,” the concierge greeted as Wilhelm entered the lobby and embraced its warmth. “How may I help you?”

“Dinner reservation for two under Sterling at 5:30,” Wilhelm said, unfastening his coat.

“Just a second.” The concierge took far too long in Wilhelm’s opinion to confirm that yes, indeed an appointment had been set on this day and time at this establishment. “Yes, I see you here. Take the elevator to the fifth floor. They’ll be expecting you there.”

Wilhelm gave another brisk nod before turning towards the elevators. As promised, when the elevator took him to the appropriate floor, the maître d’ was much more prompt in welcoming him and led him to one of the smaller private dining rooms the restaurant offered. As they crossed through the restaurant, Wilhelm took a moment to survey his surroundings and found the place rather deserted. It made sense after all. Most people wouldn’t dine for another half hour if they were the sort to indulge in dinner in the first place and anyone looking for a bar could avail themselves to the one in the lobby. Still there was an eeriness that Wilhelm couldn’t quite place. 

Once they were inside in the dining room, Wilhelm allowed the maître d’ to remove his coat and then sat himself while the maître d’ carefully hung his coat and asked, “Would the gentlemen like to wait for his company before ordering?”

“Yes, well, no, I’ll like to have a drink,” Wilhelm said.

“Of course, sir, what would you like?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

The maître d’ nodded and said, “We have an Auchentoshan, aged for 18 years. Would that be to your liking?”

“Yes, I’ll have that.”

“Excellent. I shall have that for you shortly.”

Wilhelm was soon left alone in the room with the door to his left and the view of the Züriesse to his right, its dark frozen surface clashing with the bright vibrant colours of the sunset. If he squinted, he could see the Quaibrüke. He hoped he wasn’t kept waiting for long by Sterling. His second meeting wasn’t until eight tonight but he had eaten an early light lunch and he felt a little regret over that decision even if it meant that he could enjoy a more substantive dinner at the expense of his client. Whoever this Sterling may be. In this day and age, acquiring new clients in his line of business still represented a huge risk but quite frankly the business would be good for him. With any luck he could look forward to retirement in a few years at most.

Then from the corner of his eye, he saw a blonde woman enter. A very attractive blonde, probably in her early 30s. She was slim but possessed a modest bust, accentuated by the lapel-less navy blue jacket and black dress she had on. Her hair was done in a neat bun and aside from a diamond earring on either ear, she possessed no other jewellery. She held a black clutch in one hand and balanced neatly on her other palm was a silver tray that held a martini and presumably his whiskey. Given her attire it was unlikely that this woman was his waitress but why else would she be carrying his drink.

“Herr Wilhelm Bischofff?” the woman asked, her accent British.  She gave a slightly asymmetrical smile that almost resembled a smirk at his expense. Nevertheless Bischoff nodded as he got up from his chair. “Miss Julia Sterling, nice to finally meet you. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for long.”

“And you too, Miss Sterling.” Grateful that he hadn’t unwittingly insulted her, he waited until she had set the tray down before shaking her hand and to his very great surprise, it was rougher than he’d expect a woman like her to have. “And no, you haven’t.”

“Excellent,” Sterling said as she sat down opposite of him and took the martini from the tray. “I hope you don’t mind delaying dinner until our business has concluded. It is of a sensitive nature and I would rather not have the waiting staff intrude on our conversation.”

“Of course, Miss Sterling. Was that also why you insisted on bringing our drinks?”

“Naturally.” She took a sip of her martini before continuing. “Now I’ve asked several colleagues of mine and they’ve all said you are a man of both discretion and good financial sense.”

“That is correct. I’m glad to hear my reputation precedes me. However I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Well, it appears you know that I represent an excellent and reliable business opportunity for you, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Very true, Miss Sterling. So what can I do for you?”

“I represent certain enterprises that would like to be able to work more closely together across international lines without interference. I am told that this is a service that you can assist in, if not personally provide. I also have some initial capital that I would like to be made available for use as soon as possible and as well as some as payment for your services rendered.”

“Ah, quite eager, are we?” Again Sterling made her lopsided feline grin, this time it felt warm and welcoming. And she was right. Helping individuals get their money to organisations was something that he himself prided in. Who those individuals or organisations were wasn’t really his concern. He swirled the whiskey in his glass as he pretended to contemplate his decision when in reality he had already made it the moment Sterling walked in. “Well, Miss Sterling, I may need some time but I’m quite pleased to say that I would be delighted to work with you and those you represent.” The two shook hands before clinking their glasses together. Wilhelm finally took a sip of his drink. It was amazing how much better a successful business deal made whiskey taste. “Shall we order now?”

“Of course,” Sterling said. “There’s just one more thing…”

His eyes already on the menu, Wilhelm said, “And what’s that?” Then he heard the sound of the slide of a gun being pulled, followed by a sharp but slightly muted _twick_. Pain immediately blossomed from somewhere under his left collar bone as he was forced back to the floor. On the way down though, Wilhelm had seized the napkin and was now pressing it against the wound as he tried to muster the breath to cry for help.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” Sterling said coldly, standing up. In her hand was a suppressed pistol. “The walls here have been fitted with soundproofing and in any case, there isn’t anyone out there to hear you.”

“Wait,” he rasped as he felt his life draining through his fingers. “Who, who are you?”

She raised the pistol towards his head and said, “The name is Bond. Jane Bond.”

*             *             *

After completing her mission, Jane knelt down on the carpet and picked up the spent casings. She then placed them inside the clutch along with her pistol, decocked and safety on. After draining her martini, she wiped down the glass with a napkin as well as anything her fingers might have contacted before putting the napkin in her clutch as well. Jane made one last cursory inspection of the scene before leaving the dining room.

As she threw the coat she left outside the private room on, she looked around the restaurant. As per her strict instructions, the restaurant was empty of all staff. Hotel Kauthaus was a very understanding establishment and more than willing to accommodate her peculiar needs, especially after a substantial financial nudge. She did feel a twang of guilt as she realised that she had repaid their consideration with a crime scene but remained content in the knowledge that Herr Bischoff would no longer be assisting in terrorism financing. As soon as she was in the relative privacy of the lift, she extracted her mobile and made her call home.

“M, it’s done,” she said as soon as they were connected and proper encryption was established.

“And the Basque?”

“An hour before I met with Bischoff.”

“Good. Great work, Ms Bond. Your status has been upgraded and confirmed. Congratulations, 007.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natalie Dormer as **Ian Fleming's Jane Bond 007** in  
>   
>  _ **Sakura Blooms**_  
>   
>  starring Hetienne Park  
> Lucy Liu  
> Rinko Kikuchi  
> And Julie Andrews as **M**


	2. Seoul - 15 March 2015

Charles Cowley couldn’t say that he was fond of green tea nor was he used to drinking tea without milk or sugar. He did however possess enough awareness to both acknowledge and appreciate the origins of tea and as such remained silent as his Korean counterpart, Ban Moon-Hee, poured the tea, a few measures in each cup at a time. They sat cross-legged across from each other with the low table between them but fortunately they eschewed the traditional garb for today. Charles waited until Mr Ban picked his cup up with both hands before following suit and together they engaged in the peculiar routine of drinking the tea that came with the ceremony, admiring the smell and warmth before the first sip.

“I appreciate you taking the time to join me, Mr Cowley,” Mr Ban said when both cups were drained and set upon the table. He smiled, enhancing the lines of his face. “Not many Westerners possess the patience for our traditions.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Charles said. “Experiencing other cultures has value in it. It’s why I became a diplomat in the first place. It’s a shame Mr Nagashiwa was unable to join us.”

“Well I’m sure he’s rather busy dealing with the hotheads across the sea.” He ended with a resigned sigh that came with complete empathy and understanding of the Japanese diplomat’s situation.

“Rarely do our professions get the appreciation they deserve,” Charles said sagely with a nod. “Without us, instead of a chance for your two great nations to cooperate and defend yourselves from imminent foreign threats, you would have had a senseless conflict sprout from such a minor incident.”

Mr Ban shook his head irritably. “One would think they were actively seeking for a war, regardless of the cost or with whom.” He poured tea for a second round.

After they’d taken their first sip, Charles said, “It’s a blessing that at least Mr Nagashiwa seems to agree with the project. Diplomacy is so much easier when both sides are actually on the same page.” 

Mr Ban’s eyes opened with surprise and he lowered his cup. “Does he? And what makes you so certain, Mr Cowley?”

“I can’t be too sure but my sense is that he too is tired of the warmongers and would do what he can to preserve the peace and promote unity. Undoubtedly he’ll ask for some concessions from your government but those will come from the self-defence forces, not him personally.”

Mr Ban simply gave a shrug and picked his cup back up. The conversation shifted away from diplomacy to personal matters, interspersed with tea. After their third cup, Mr Ban looked at his watch and then back at Charles and said, “Mr Cowley, thank you very much for having tea with me.”

“Once again, Mr Ban, it was my pleasure.” They both stood up, Mr Ban being the first to completely rise despite his age. Charles for his part struggled a bit but preserved in the end while making a mental note to be more vigorous with his exercise regimen. They shook hands, with Mr Ban making a slight bow. Afterward they departed from the private room into the more contemporary parts of the teahouse. Outside the door were a pair of bodyguards, one for each diplomat. They led the way out the teahouse where another pair was waiting.

“I shall see you this Friday morning for another bout of negotiations with Mr Nagashiwa,” Mr Ban said. “If you’re right, it’ll hopefully be the last time.”

“I usually am, Mr Ban. Until then.”

The next and last thing Charles Cowley heard was a very loud bang but he did not have to suffer his sudden loss of hearing for long. The bomb from a parked unassuming car killed him, Mr Ban, their bodyguards and two other patrons in the teahouse as well as injured another ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter so the next chapter will come much sooner :)


	3. London - 15 March 2015

“Wakey wakey sunshine,” a soft delightful voice that captivated more than two thousand people last night in _Carmen_ sang.

Jane moaned in response, causing the other person to chuckle. “How are you still up?” she mumbled. She finally opened her eyes to see her current bedmate smiling down on her, illuminated by the pale morning light. In the background Jane could hear the Flower Duet playing. She was dressed only in an untied turquoise silk robe which made her slightly more dressed than Jane and certainly helped Jane wake up. Sabina climbed on top of the bed and Jane and kissed her. Jane pressed back, enjoying the taste of her lips, her tongue flicking between them.

Sabina pulled back and said, “Rehearsal. Although I suppose I can afford to be a little late…” She then leaned close and whispered, “If you ask nicely.”

Jane’s smile widened before she kissed Sabina’s jaw. “Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” she said, accentuating each word with a kiss that descended down her neck.

Sabina giggled. “Never could resist blondes,” she said before she dove for another kiss, this one deeper and longer. She then mimicked Jane seconds before only her trail of kisses went further down to between her breasts. Sabina gave Jane a mischievous grin before she enveloped one breast with her mouth. Her nerves were set alight with pleasure and impulsively Jane arched her back with a sharp inhale. She released that breath with a blissful sigh as Sabina moved her attention to the other breast.

Of course just as Sabina’s head moved down with Jane’s guidance, Jane’s mobile began to ring. Groaning, she leaned over the bed, Sabina’s mouth still attached to her belly. She was grateful that at some point in their frantic mutual disrobing late last night, she’d dropped her handbag near the bed. Her fingers rummaged inside for a longer time than they ought to but to be fair, her other hand was entangled in Sabina’s hair. Finally she seized the phone, looked at the screen and gave another sigh, this one less enthusiastic.

As soon as she pressed “accept” and placed the mobile against her ear, M’s voice asked, “Bond, where are you?”

“Near Hyde Park, just finishing some research related to that case you gave me.”

“Of an anatomical kind,” Sabina whispered, causing Jane to stifle a giggle. She wasn’t sure how well that worked since she could practically hear M’s eyebrows rise over the phone.

“There’s been a situation. We need you here.”

“Yes, of course,” Jane said. “I’ll be there shortly.” She waited until M hung up before placing the mobile on the nightstand.

“Work?” Sabina asked, moving up so her face was over Jane’s. Jane simply nodded, prompting Sabina to lower down for a kiss. “Well I guess you’ll just have to be a little late too.”

*             *             *

“You certainly took your time, Bond,” M said in lieu of a standard greeting as soon as Jane entered her office nearly an hour later. While there had been many Ms who oversaw one of the world’s most expansive and powerful foreign intelligence agencies, this M was the only one that Jane knew. She appeared ageless with short dirty blonde hair and wrinkle free face. She sat behind her desk in a stiff posture she and she only could appear relaxed in. Everything about her, from her wardrobe to her office décor, possessed the severity of a headmistress of a faith school. Most people knew better than to act in anything less than a strict professional manner with her. Most.

“Apologies, M,” Jane said, sitting down. “I had to fill in a few holes in my research.” She couldn’t help but add a smirk.

M rolled her sharp blue eyes for a microsecond and continued, “To your assignment. At approximately 1300 local time, Her Majesty’s Ambassador to the Republic of Korea, Charles Cowley, was assassinated in a café not far from the British Embassy in Seoul. Also killed was the Director General of the Northeast Asian Affairs Bureau, Ban Moon-Hee, and both of their security details.”

She pushed the black folder on her desk towards Jane, who opened and flipped through the reports and photos. She quickly found the manner of how they were killed, a bomb detonated from a nearby parked car. The South Korean police’s bomb squad report was also attached, indicating that it was made from mostly household chemicals and the detonator had been remote activated.

“Any suspects?” Jane asked as she tried to find the answer herself in the reports.

“No conclusive ones,” M said. “Any other time they would have said it was the North Koreans but now it’s a bit more complicated.”

“Any other time?”

“A few months ago there was an incident involving two Japanese patrol boats, a Japanese destroyer, and a South Korean news helicopter and cargo freighter. A combination of communication errors and inadequate intelligence led the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force to fire upon what they believed to be a shipment of missile components to North Korea with a light air escort. The helicopter was destroyed with all lives aboard lost while the freighter suffered severe damage. Many in the South Korean government and public cried for retaliation but fortunately both governments were able to settle the dispute and clear any misunderstandings before any more violence occurred.”

“So how does Mr Cowley fit in?” asked Jane.

“After the incident, both countries resolved to create a joint intelligence collaboration initiative in hopes of avoiding another event like that. It would involve the not just the intelligence agencies but their respective militaries as well. Mr Cowley was asked to act as a mediator between the two countries and as a representative from a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council. By all accounts, the negotiations have been proceeding rather well until this event.”

“So we think it might be the warmongering elements in South Korea?”

“Or Japan. The calls for war were prominent there as well. And now they’ll both be howling for war. Some people here for that matter. There are those among our government ready to send special forces in, smash down doors, and call it a day. Fortunately I’ve convinced them to hold off for now. This is your assignment, 007. Investigate the death of Charles Cowley, discover and apprehend the parties responsible, and ensure that justice is served.”

“Understood, M.”

“Good. Q has your papers and equipment and I would like for you to keep me updated with your progress.”

Jane nodded and got up from her seat. Just before she left the office however, M stopped her.

“And Bond? I would greatly appreciate it if you came back alive.”

She’d always said that before Jane left for the field and she wasn’t sure if she said it to all the agents or just her but it still gave Jane pause, like there was at least one person who cared about her well-being. Her lips pressed tighter to push down her emotions as she nodded and said, “Ma’am.”

  
*             *             *

“Wish M would tell me sooner that you’ll be here,” Q said as she walked past Jane when she entered the quarter room, sweeping the bewildered agent into her path. Like M, Jane was sure there were other people in the past who held the moniker of Q but the young Japanese woman was the only Q she knew.

“I can come another time if it’s better for you…” Jane said hesitantly but Q shook her head, her bob haircut swinging with it.

“Why bother? You’re already here. Come.”

She took her into a room that had a large worktable in the middle of it. There were several black cases of varying sizes on the table. Unconsciously Jane moved towards the table to open one but stayed back, remembering how protective Q was of her toys. Q seemed to notice her since she gave her a nod of approval before opening the first box herself.

“Your usual Walter PPK,” she began, showing the gun to Jane. “Honestly this would be much easier if you actually held onto your weapon instead of dropping it. I’ve lost count how many times we’ve had to replace it.”

“Well, if you gave me a holster, I could,” Jane said.

Q’s eyebrows narrowed. “What do you mean?” she said. “I always give you one. Here.” She lifted the foam cushion that the gun was resting on and lo and behold, there was both a leather shoulder holster and a belt holster, folded neatly at the bottom. Jane tilted her head, wondering how she had never noticed that before. Q replaced the cushion in the case and continued.

“Your mobile, please,” she said, holding out her hand. Jane immediately handed it over. Q took it and connected it into the second case, which she then opened to reveal a laptop. Standing behind Q, Jane tried to resist the urge to peek around her head at the screen. Once again Q seemed to notice because she replied to Jane’s silent question, “The latest updates to the apps I gave you plus some extra ones. Including this one.”

Q grabbed the smallest box, one with the size of a ring box, and gave it to Jane, all with her back still to Jane. She opened it to see an earpiece.

“Translation device,” Q explained. “I know you were given a crash course in both Japanese and Korean and that might do for casual chatting but I doubt more specific things like _uyoku dantai_ showed up in your lessons. There’s a slight delay between what you’re hearing and the translation so keep that in mind. Oh and before I forget, papers.” She pulled a thick white envelope from inside her jacket. “Plane ticket to Seoul, proper identification, some credit cards and cash, and before you ask, no, vodka martinis and designer trouser suits do not count as work expenses.”

Jane accepted the envelope with a slight pout thought she did it mostly to needle Q than actual resentment. MI6 paid her well enough that she didn’t need to cover them with her work account. She put the envelope into her own inside coat pocket as Q continued to explain the other apps which included a signal jammer for almost all forms of communications as well as WiFi (Jane wondered if someone in her flat complex had one given how spotty her own WiFi was), an electronic lock masterkey programme given the proper periphery (all of them in another box and included a latex finger with customisable minutiae features), a femtocell mimic programme (basically you can tap into calls and messages and even set it to a specific carrier, Q explained) and another programme that could bypass computer security so long as the mobile was connected to it (Q offered to explain how it actually worked but Jane declined).

“You do realise I’m just investigating a murder, right?” Jane said when Q finished and returned her mobile. “This thing could bring down the government.”

“What do you think we do here?” Q asked in response. “Granted not all the time but, occasionally one of you will be asked to bring someone powerful somewhere and I have to give you the tools to do it. Besides you know it’s more than just a murder investigation. They don’t send 00s for that.”

Jane pocketed the potentially destructive device into her pocket. “Fair enough,” Jane said. “Anything else?”

“Anything else?” she repeated. “As if I’m Santa Claus.”

“I don’t know, Q,” she said, a smile appearing on her lips. “I’m pretty sure you could deliver toys to all the good little boys and girls of the world if you wanted to.”

“Hah,” she said. “Only my cats get toys from me. The good boys and girls of MI6 get useful apps and devices that make their jobs and mine easier. And the rest will just have to rely on the generosity of Santa.”

“So I guess this doesn’t quite make me a good little girl,” Jane commented.

“Oh you thought you were going to get a car,” Q exclaimed before she burst into giggles while Jane awkwardly stood wondering if she should laugh with her. When she recovered, she said, “Trust me, you’ll be thanking me when you get to Seoul. Besides you’ve exhausted your yearly allowance for vehicles.”

Jane winced at the memories of her previously doomed cars, the most recent being sent to the bottom of the Ganges. And it was only the middle of March. In retrospect maybe being restrained from operating government cars was a good idea. Might have even been M’s or Q’s.

“Fair enough,” Jane said again. “Thanks, Q.”

Q smiled, a genuine one this time, and gave her a small bow. “A pleasure, Ms Bond. Just remember to return the equipment in one piece.”

If Jane’s smile was a bit less certain than Q’s, it was because Jane knew full well the chances of that happening was close to nil. 


	4. Tokyo - 16 March 2015

“Sakurai- _sama_!” a maid outside the bathroom called. “The kimono dresser is here.”

To be quite honest, Mamiko Sakurai thought the kimono dresser would wait until _she_ was ready. Still, against her desires, she got up from the warm bath that she had been submerged in for the last seven or so minutes. She brushed aside the lavender petals that clung to her skin before taking the cotton towel draped nearby and carefully drying herself, splotching every inch. She tossed the towel aside and called out for the maid. Seconds later she appeared with the kimono dresser, both carrying the pieces of a _mofuku_ kimono and both seemingly ignoring her immodesty. Mamiko allowed her arms to be lifted and positioned this way and that way as the two servants pulled the delicate garments over her. All in all, it took around thirty minutes.

“Thank you,” Mamiko said to the kimono dresser. The dresser bowed and left while the maid came forward with the makeup kit. Mamiko took a seat in front of the mirror on the bamboo stool that had previously held her towels. She applied a light layer of foundation first over Mamiko’s face, then carefully brushed the concealer on the dark circles under her eyes. Another light layer of powder was added before the maid proceeded to the eye makeup. Mamiko tried incredibly hard to not flinch or fidget as the maid approached her eyes with the brushes. She favoured the contour powder over rouge but chose a bright red shade for her lipstick. Her hair was done in a traditional style with steel hairpins and flowers inserted to hold it all together.

“Sakurai- _sama_ , you look like a vision!” the maid said when she finished her task.

Though it was narcissistic to say, Mamiko was inclined to agree as she admired her maid’s handiwork from all sides. She looked alluring but not enough so to send the wrong message. Just enough to hide any threats under the surface. The maid bent down to pick up her discarded towels, saying “I will have these laundered before you return, Sakurai- _sama_.”

Mamiko nodded and thanked her before she slipped her feet into the funeral _zōri_ and finally left the bathroom. Waiting outside the entire time was a pair of bodyguards, both dressed in black suits and sunglasses. Both of them bowed and as the pair followed her as one of them began muttering orders into her headset. In the foyer of her mansion, there was a small squad of bodyguards. Some were going through their mobiles while others were engaged in casual chat. All of them immediately looked up when they noticed her approaching and bowed before her.

“Sakurai- _sama_ ,” one of them said, a middle-aged man with a goatee. “Allow me to convey my and my men’s condolences to you. I served Tanashi- _sama_ faithfully for ten years. I shall serve you just as well.”

“Thank you, Hattori- _kun_ ,” Mamiko said. “I appreciate your services to myself and my late husband and I am grateful to continue to have them. Tell me, have you heard back from Asaki- _san_?”

“No, Sakurai- _sama_ , but his aide has reassured me that he will be at the meeting tonight.”

“I suppose that’s the best we can hope for.” Outside the house Mamiko heard several cars drive by, their tires crunching the gravel driveway. Unnecessarily Hattori said, “Our motorcade has arrived, Sakurai- _sama_. If you are ready?”

Mamiko nodded and the squad of bodyguards formed themselves around her before they all went into the cars. The car ride on the expressway was fairly uneventful although Mamiko kept a close eye on her mobile sitting on her lap. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was waiting for; she just had an unusual feeling something was coming. But as the cars weaved through the busy streets of Minato and pulled in front of Akasaka Kurosawa, a restaurant popular among businessmen both legal and illegal, her mobile remained as silent as everyone else in the black Lexus GX.

Mamiko waited until the car door was opened before stepping out, feeling the hard concrete under her _zōri_. Her bodyguards quickly cleared a path through the crowded lobby for her so the only person she met on her way to the private dining room was the one man she actually wanted to see. He looked rather similar to her husband, possessing a tall lanky build. His hair was slicked back and it seemed he had applied product to his side burns and beard as well. But while Sako Tanashi was heavily regarded as a severe person, there was a friendliness in the other man and it showed in his features.  

“Asaki- _san_ ,” she greeted after they had bowed to each other. “So glad to see you.”

“And you, Sakurai- _san_ , although I wish it was under better circumstances. Again, my condolences for your loss.” Asaki bowed again.

“Thank you. Is everyone assembled?” She hoped she hadn’t been keeping her husband’s lieutenants waiting for too long.

“Everyone but Shinoda- _san_. But we received word that he is on his way. Traffic in Minato can be just dreadful.”

 Mamiko nodded. “Very well. Now have you talked to the executives?”

“Of course, Sakurai- _san_. While some are unconvinced, there are those who are prepared to cast their votes for you.”

“Will it be enough to make me the _oyabun_?”

“I’m not sure, Sakurai- _san_. I can only guarantee you seven votes. The rest is up to you.”

Mamiko nodded again, her mind already working how she’d get the majority. Given her knowledge of the men behind those doors, it would be quite a task. She took a deep breath, inhaling and then exhaling through her nose. “All right, let’s go.”

Asaki opened the door for her and as she walked in, fourteen of the most powerful _gashira_ and seven of the most diligent _komon_ in the Tanashi-kai stood up and bowed before her. Mamiko bowed in return before she took her place near the end of the table. Asaki followed behind her and took a seat to her left. There were only two empty chairs at the table, one directly across from her and one to her right. The latter was of her husband’s and the former was soon to be occupied. A few minutes later the door opened and in walked the _wakagashira_ , Tetso Shinoda. Unlike Asaki, Shinoda was short for a man, barely taller than Mamiko herself. He had a stoutness that was starting to morph from muscle to fat and he had shaved his head completely. And unlike the others who were dressed in black suits and ties, Shinoda chose to not wear a tie but instead left some buttons unbuttoned so that the parts of his _irezumi_ were visible. Mamiko joined everyone else in greeting him with a bow.

“At last, we can begin,” muttered Asaki as they sat down and Shinoda walked to join them. Mamiko shot him a brief grin. Shinoda gave Mamiko a curt nod as he positioned himself across from her.

As the second in command, Shinoda began the proceedings. “Gentlemen and lady. We are gathered here today to decide the future of our esteemed organisation. The tragic passing of Tanashi- _sama_ have impacted us all but we must move on to honour the great work he has done. As his _wakagashira_ , it stands to reason that I should be the one who will take the role of _oyabun_ of the Tanashi-kai. I stood by his side as he created his empire from scraps. I fought with him in the glorious wars against our rivals as we took our place in this world.  As _oyabun_ , I will lead our people to greater days that we have only dreamed of in the past.”

There was a robust round of applause to which Mamiko briefly contributed. Though he was currently her rival, she could not deny what Shinoda has done.

“Is there any among us who wish to dispute my claim?” Shinoda asked.

“I do, Shinoda- _san_ ,” Mamiko said, standing up. There were spatterings of mutters around the table until she cleared her throat. “With respect to Shinoda- _san_ and the great work he’s done for this organisation, I feel that I am more deserving of the title _oyabun_. Before I married Tanashi- _sama_ , I built a multi-million yen corporation with ties across the globe that demonstrates the ingenuity and determination of the Japanese people. I created a substantial think tank organisation that not only works tirelessly to preserve and promote the values of our great country, but also shields our brothers from the scrutiny of the law. I was not just a wife to Tanahi- _sama_ ; I was his _saiko komon_. I was there as his faithful advisor to help him create his empire.”

“Shame you didn’t help create an actual heir instead,” one of the men gathered said. Though he sat far from where Mamiko stood, he was still audible and there were brief snickers across the table.

Mamiko willed herself to not blush and continued, “If I am your _oyabun_ , I promise here and now to do whatever it takes to ensure the continued survival and prosperity for our family.”

The following applause was much more subdued but it was nothing Mamiko didn’t expect. Both she and Shinoda sat down while Asaki rose.

“With the ceremony contested, an election shall decide who will rise to the position of boss” he said before he clapped his hands twice. Two of the few dozen kumi-in stepped forward with slips of paper and passed one to each of the seated individuals. Mamiko took a pen from her kinchaku and wrote her name before folding the piece of paper. The two soldiers returned with black boxes in which the _saiko kanbu_ threw their votes in. Asaki took the boxes from them and counted the votes. Mamiko knew better than to think he would help her steal the election. No doubt Shinoda and his followers would cry foul, and then a war would break out. Besides that wasn’t how she planned to be the _oyabun_.

“The votes are counted,” Asaaki announced. “Tanashi- _san_ has garnered ten votes. Shinoda- _san_ has garnered fouteen votes. Shinoda- _san_ has the majority.”

There was an outburst of applause and cheers following the pronouncement. The outcome did not surprise Mamiko but it was still disappointing. Across from her, Shinoda bowed his head towards her with a hint of a triumphant grin in his lips.

“The _sakazuki_ shall take place in five days’ time. At which time, we shall pledge our loyalty to the new _oyabun_ , Shinoda- _sama_.”

Five days. More than enough time to execute her plans.

“Congratulations, Shinoda- _sama_ ,” Mamiko said as besides her, Asaki took his seat. The doors opened to allow a small stream of waiters bearing plates of delicacies and bottles of sake to the delight of the _saiko kanbu_.

“Thank you, Tanashi- _san_ ,” he replied. “I trust I can rely on your continued support.”

As she grabbed a piece of kobe beef tataki with her chopsticks, Mamiko simply smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if my Japanese is incorrect. I have no knowledge in that language so if there's anything wrong, please kindly let me know. Thank you!


	5. Seoul - 17 March 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I tried for a while to figure out how to end this but I just ended up with it kinda like this. But there is a surprise appearance!

After an eleven hour flight from London to Seoul, Jane would normally allow herself a day’s rest not for the jetlag but to indulge her wanderlust sensibilities. However, her desires were outweighed by her sense of duty so immediately the next morning after she finished her breakfast at the Four Seasons Hotel, she went for the embassy. It wasn’t far from her hotel and by all accounts, Q was right. The traffic was atrocious. It only took her about ten minutes for her to get to there by foot. If she’d driven there, she was confident it would take twice as long.

Once she arrived, she flashed her falsified Foreign and Commonwealth Office ID to the receptionist in front and asked to see the departed Charles Cowley’s office. Not even a minute later, a woman came down, identified herself as his secretary, and escorted Jane to his office. The secretary seemed unaffected by his death and Jane was left wondering if that was an indication of how the ambassador treated his subordinates or just typical British stuffiness. The office itself was rather spacious given how small the embassy looked from the inside. His furniture was of a higher end but not so high that they would require supplemental sources of income. Jane noted that the volumes on a variety of subjects he kept were barely used which meant he only wanted them to appear erudite.

Her first priority was to look for covert recording devices. Behind the cabinets and shelves, between the sofa cushions, among the neglected books, under the desk and chair, inside the office phone and computer. The secretary had keys to some of his locked cabinets and drawers and Jane picked the rest and found nothing in them. Just to confirm, she used one of Q’s apps to detect for unusual transmitting signals and came up with nothing. Then she looked into his computer again with the secretary’s help. She first plugged her mobile into it for another old Q app that looked for spyware. While it did that, she went through his notes regarding the planned Japanese-Korean intelligence collaboration which involved the construction and maintenance of an offshore observation post near the Liancourt Rocks and found that he seemed optimistic with the progress. This talk seemed the sole focus for Cowley since he didn’t have anything of note among his agenda. His calendar showed a small social function scheduled Thursday evening at the residence of Jeung Kwan-lee, who Jane found via Google was a real estate magnate. Jotting a mental remainder to check on him, Jane then checked the progress of the spyware scan and found nothing.

_Curious_ , Jane thought as she looked around the office, wondering if she missed anything. There wasn’t anything mechanical here that compromised Cowley’s security. But the same could not be said of the Korean diplomat although that would require some more clandestine activities at a future time to confirm. In the meantime, she had to go to her next stop. Charles Cowley’s body.

A brief talk with the chief of security in the British Embassy later, Jane hailed down a taxi and on her way to the College of Medicine in Korea University.  The traffic had improved significantly while she was conducting her investigation but it still took quite some time for her to arrive as well as to find the building. She noticed that she was getting a few prolonged glances from the students but she hoped her gait emulated that of the other students and would allow her to slip beneath suspicion.

She got into the College of Medicine, an incredibly impressive glass structure, easily enough and, even with her limited Korean, was able to figure out where the Forensic Medicine Division was. However, there was a police officer in her path and his posture and demeanour said that he was not going to be budged easily.

“Excuse me, officer,” Jane said in Korean, pulling out her Foreign Office ID out again. “I’m from the British Foreign Office. I would like to examine the body of Her Majesty’s Ambassador, Charles Cowley.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the officer replied. “I cannot let you do that. National security matter.”

“Sir.” She adopted a briskness into her voice that she hoped made it more authoritative. “This is also a matter of the murder of a British citizen on foreign soil. I’m here to represent his homeland in the investigation.”

“Then you’ll have to take it up with the KNPA. Right now I’ve orders to stop any unauthorised personnel from coming in this facility. Is that understood?”

Jane briefly considered just how successful she’d be in dispatching the police officer both quickly and without notice. Then she thought better of it and smiled. “Understood. Have a good day.”

She turned around and walked back towards where she came from, only this time her mind was whirling with her evening plans. She was going to get what she wanted even if it was going to take her a bit longer.

*             *             *

“Soo-jin. Soo-jin!” Dr Kyung Dong, the medical examiner in the Korea University’s Forensic Medical Division, called as he walked towards the exit.

“Yes, _Seonbae_?” Pak Soo-jin said, looking up from her computer. Before she did though, she glanced at the clock and her jaw nearly dropped. 7:00 pm. No wonder it seemed quiet.

“I’m going home now. Remember to clean everything up when you’re done.”

“Yes, _Seonbae_ , good night.”

Dr Kyung looked at her for another second for walking out, leaving Soo-jin alone in the facility’s mortuary.  As soon as she heard the door closed, she turned the volume dial by a few notches so her music permeated through the room. If she was going to cut up some bodies, she was going to do it with some musical accompaniment. Although the police pretty much knew what killed Mr Ban and the other victims of the bombing, they still wanted an autopsy done on all of them. So naturally Dr Kyung got the Korean ambassador, the assistant medical examiner got the British one, and the rest were divvyed among the residents. Or at least supposed to but since Young, the other resident, had to leave early, she was still left with two bodies, those of the British bodyguards.

Taking the voice recorder from her desk, she began to do her work. First was a Robert Savage, a white male, 176 centimetres tall, approximately 80 kilos, and, according to his ID, was 35 years old. It looks like he was the closest to the bomb given the severity of the burns on his skin and the damage done to his organs from overpressure. The notes on the two ambassadors said that their injuries weren’t nearly as bad even if they all caused death in the end. Next was Thomas Gould. As she wheeled his body from the cold chamber, Soo-jin could have sworn she heard someone come in underneath the punk rock music she was playing.

“Hello?” she called out, wishing she hadn't quite played her music so loud. She walked towards their “offices”, grabbing a scalpel on her way. She doubted it was anything but if her previous occupation taught her anything, it was better safe than sorry.

She looked around the office room that she shared with the other resident and the assistant medical examiner and found nothing. Of course it was rather difficult to hide under the harsh glare of fluorescent lamps and among the sparse furniture. After turning off her music, Soo-jin then tried the medical examiner’s office. While the door was locked, she used the spare key from the assistant medical examiner’s desk. Again nothing. Ready to blame her previous job for her jitteriness, she locked the door again and turned around to see a white woman pointing a gun several inches from her head.

Reflexively she took a step back, hitting the door with her back. But she also gripped the scalpel tighter, prepared to defend herself in necessary. Soo-jin wondered just how this woman managed to sneak up on her from nowhere. She was dressed in a black or dark grey jacket with a tight collar and matching trousers. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. Her gun was a Walther PPK with a suppressor and she noted that despite the fact it was pointed at her, the blonde’s finger wasn’t on the trigger. All in all, she was definitely a professional…whatever. She still couldn’t work out if she was a criminal, a terrorist, a foreign agent, or just someone playing Humans vs Zombies.

“Who are you?” Soo-jin asked, deciding she should at least try to solve one of her mysteries. Her words were in English given the unlikelihood that the intruder understood Korean.

“Bond,” the woman replied, her accent very decidedly English. “Jane Bond. And you?”

“Pak Soo-jin. And I’d greatly appreciate it if you lowered your weapon.”

Ms Bond nodded and lowered her arms, turning the safety on as she did. Soo-jin let out the breath of air she didn’t realise she was holding in and set the scalpel on the assistant medical examiner’s desk.

“What are you doing here?” Soo-jin asked.

“Investigating Charles Cowley’s murder,” Bond replied as she slipped her gun back into her holster. “You?”

“I’m a resident,” she replied, feeling that Bond was probably as surprised to see her as she was her. “Are you with the British embassy then?”

“In a way. I hate to ask but would it be all right if I stayed? I can show you identification if you need it.”

Soo-jin nearly wanted to laugh. Here was a woman who broke into her lab, pointed a gun at her, and then asked, quite politely, if she could stay. The proper thing to do was to say no, threaten to call the police, and call them anyway for good measure. But she had a hunch that Bond would just find another way to get what she wanted. And, well, there was something about this woman that made it a bit easier to trust her. The fact that she willingly lowered her gun when Soo-jin asked her to helped some.

She sighed and said, “All right. I was just about to start on the second British bodyguard.”

“Thank you,” Bond said as she followed Soo-jin back to the examination room. “What did you find on the first one?”

“Mr Savage? Nothing of note. Extensive burns and overpressure damage. It just means he was the closest to the bomb.”

“What about Mr Cowley? Anything on him?”

“I didn’t perform the autopsy on him; the assistant medical examiner did. I’ll make sure to get you a copy though if you want. Didn’t know the British Embassy sent people to break into forensic labs.” _And such attractive ones at that_.

“I’m a bit of a special case,” Bond said with a catlike smile.

_I bet you are_ , Soo-jin’s subconsciousness managed to say before the rest of her brain told it to stop flirting with the British agent. “I see,” the sensible part of her brain and, more importantly, the one in control of her mouth said. “Well, here he is. Thomas Gould. If you could stand back a bit…”

Jane nodded and gave her some space for her to work. Satisfied with the distance the British woman gave her, Soo-jin picked up her recorder and began narrating.

“Name, Thomas Gould. Age, 36. Ethnicity, white. Height, about 190 centimetres. Weight, about 90 kilos.”

She began photographing the body from different angles and sides. She was taking pictures of his left arm when she noticed something odd with his hand. She ran a gloved finger across it and found that the fingertip of his pinkie was a silicone fake one. 

“That’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Bond asked. Soo-jin nearly forgot she was still there.

“The fingertip of his fifth finger was cut off. Just above the knuckle.” She pulled the fake one out with a pair of tweezers and displayed it to Bond.

“So a culinary accident perhaps?”

“Maybe. But Mr Gould here might have also gone through _yubitsume_.”

“ _Yubitsume_? Isn’t that when your fingers get cut off by yakuza? How could the British Embassy failed to pick up on this?”

“People slip through,” Soo-jin said. “Besides he could have been involved after he was accepted into the security detail. It doesn’t seem like he had any tattoos so any involvement could have been coerced. Come and think about it, I’m not sure if the yakuza accepted non-Japanese.”

Bond simply shrugged and leaned back against the table while Soo-jin continued her work with her commentary. Finally, after all the organs had been scooped out, inspected, and replaced (at least the ones she could get out), she sewed the body up and said, “Besides the fake fingertip, Mr Gould here doesn’t seem to have anything out of place from a typical bombing.”

“And personal effects?” asked Bond.

“The police have those in evidence. I can’t get to them and probably not you unless you’re going to break into the National Police headquarters as well.” Judging from the thoughtful smirk Bond had, Soo-jin was pretty sure she was already thinking of a way to get in and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. “I’ll get you that report on Mr Cowley though.”

“Thank you,” Bond said as they walked towards the office. “I really appreciate what you’re doing.”

Soo-jin shrugged. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to make this evening easier for the both of us. You would have tried to get what you want, one way or another.”

Bond scoffed. “Sounds like you’re familiar with the type.”

“Probably because I am that type.” Soo-jin looked at Bond and shared a smile with her. When they reached the office, Soo-jin said, “Wait here. I’m going to make a copy.”

As the copy machine made copies of the autopsy reports of both ambassadors, Soo-jin heard the sounds of a struggle going on behind the closed door. Immediately she went to open the door only to quickly dodge an object flying towards her. As soon as she recovered, she went out to see Bond fighting a Japanese man, not much older than her or Soo-jin. As far as she could tell, they were both relatively equally matched. There was also a M1911A1 on the floor, most likely his. That was her first priority: making sure Bond’s adversary didn’t have access for his gun. She darted forward and grabbed the pistol, ejected the magazine, and cleared the chamber. She then looked up to see the Japanese man with his back towards her raising his fist for a punch and she knew that was a perfect moment to act. She threw the empty and relatively useless pistol at him, hitting him in the spine a few inches below the neck. She was rewarded by a groan which was rapidly succeeded by another as Bond hit him.

Soo-jin then joined the fray, rushing towards the man and putting him in a headlock. She quickly dodged his elbow strike from his right but the one from his left managed to get her and her hold on his neck was weakened. Not by a lot but by enough for him to push her arm off him. Bond then punched him square in the nose before he could do anything else, nearly knocking his head back into Soo-jin. The man tried to shift his footing, probably so he could better fight two opponents, but Soo-jin hooked her foot around his ankle and swept it off. As soon he landed face down on the floor, Bond went in and turned him over for another punch only to stop. She then placed two fingers against his throat and, after a few seconds, nodded.

“The guard outside,” Bond said. She took a deep breath and continued. “Might have handcuffs on him.”

Soo-jin nodded and stepped through the entrance that was definitely not as secure as promised. Outside she saw the security guard slumped against the wall. A quick look at the blood splatter and smear on the wall and the single spent shell casing some feet away told her that the guard had been shot while being approached by the assailant. However, she didn’t know if Bond or the Japanese man was the one who shot him though she was willing to bet it was the latter. Dispelling her protesting sense of propriety, she reached behind the slain guard and retrieved his handcuffs.

When she returned to the office, she saw that Bond had just finished removing the man’s shirt, exposing the tapestry of tattoos on his chest and arms. It seemed that Bond was somehow less squeamish with removing items from unresponsive bodies. She then discarded the shirt and began photographing the unconscious man with her mobile. Soo-jin turned her eyes back to the man’s tattoos and recognised a few of them from past briefings from organised crime. Definitely yakuza. As the Japanese man began to moan and stir, Soo-jin cuffed his hands around the table leg with Bond’s assistance.

As they stood back to examine their handiwork, Soo-jin asked, “Did you find any ID?”

Bond shook her head.

“I found the guard shot to death outside,” Soo-jin then said. “Was that you?”

“No,” Bond said immediately. “I simply created a distraction to lure him away from his post.”

“Thought so,” she muttered to herself. Then, in a louder voice, Soo-jin said, “I’ve got your autopsy reports. I suspect you’ll want to get out of here soon.”

Bond nodded and said, “I’d appreciate it, yes.”

Soo-jin went to the medical director’s office and returned with the copy. Bond folded it lengthwise and stuffed it inside her coat.

“Thank you very much, Soo-jin. Ciao, ciao.”

Then, to Soo-jin’s surprise, Bond dove in to deliver a swift peck on her cheek before departing, leaving her wondering how she was going to explain her current situation involving a now conscious and vitriol-spewing yakuza member to her superiors.

*             *             *

Jane returned to her hotel room to see the Scotch she had ordered from room service on the road waiting for her on the mahogany desk. She flung the autopsy report Soo-jin gave her next to it before pouring herself a moderate measure and taking an appreciative sip from her glass. She set the glass down and booted up her laptop, unfolding the collapsed side monitors. She then plugged her mobile into the computer and took a seat as she waited for the proper encryption processes to finish before calling M.

In the upper left corner of the centre monitor, a video window appeared showing her the visage of Bill Tanner. Blonde and built like a lorry, for whatever reason, Tanner seemed content to be M’s guy Friday when he could have made an excellent field agent, even a 00. He peered into the camera for a minute through his black glasses as he said, “Ah, good afternoon, Bond.” Despite years of living with his colonial overlords, his Australian accent had yet to be replaced.

“Evening, Tanner,” Jane said. “Could you get M please?”

Tanner nodded and got up from his seat. Just before the screen went black, Jane had a good look of his excellently formed arse. If she squinted and tilted her head in a certain direction, she could see herself sexually attracted to it and its owner but right now, she could appreciate the aesthetics of it. When the screen went back online, the camera was showing M’s office with the woman seated and Tanner standing behind her with a tablet, his pink shirt and red tie creating a contrast with M’s monochromatic attire.

“Bond, report,” M said crisply.

Jane responded a summary of today’s activities, leaving out her encounter with the Korean medical examiner resident. As she spoke, she uploaded the photos of the yakuza man’s tattoos and send them to both M for her review and to one of several dozens of analysis teams in MI6 headquarters. Throughout it all, M stayed silent as did Tanner although it seemed to take him more effort to do so.

When Jane finished, M asked, “The Japanese assailant. Where is he now?”

“He was restrained at the site and authorities were notified. I inflicted multiple traumas to his head so it is not likely he’ll be able to identify me.” Given that Soo-jin wasn’t in her narrative with M, Jane couldn’t mention that she was exactly keen on murdering with a witness present. _Speaking of her._ She started a background check on the medical examiner while waiting for M to speak, wondering what she’d think about her decision to leave that man alive.

But before M could reply, Tanner reported, “The analysis on the man’s tattoos have been completed. In addition to the general yakuza motifs, it seems like his tattoos are those associated with the Kyushu Ishii-kai. At their height, they had around five hundred members but a territory war with the Tanashi-kai has resulted in their defeat and subsequent exile. Most of the survivors went to South Korea.” He tapped a few areas on his tablet and MI6’s entire dossier on the Kyushu Ishii-kai emerged on her right monitor for her reading leisure.

Jane scrolled through them, looking for any mention of their presence in Seoul specifically. “Looks like there’s about ten or so of them here. That’s barely enough men for a block in this city. How did they get involved in political assassination?”

“Perhaps they worked with a right wing group in Japan,” M suggested. “It’s fairly common for them to work with yakuza.”

“It doesn’t appear they have any known political affiliations,” Jane noted. She did find their headquarters, a charitable term she thought. Just a bar located in Songpa. She wasn’t sure about their activities in other cities but in Seoul they were only engaged in low-level drug distribution. She couldn’t imagine getting in and out of that place to be a difficult task. “Regardless, I’ll investigate them tonight. Just to make sure.”

“Very well, Bond. Report your findings to Tanner. He’ll be staying late tonight.”

Tanner made a barely inaudible sound that suggested this was a very recent development but M ignored him. Jane nodded and said, “Understood. Good night, M. Good night, Tanner.”

Tanner bade her good night and good luck while M simply nodded before the window turned dark as the call disconnected. Jane continued to read both the dossier on the Kyushu Ishii-kai and the background on Soo-jin. The latter was infinitely more compelling. Soo-jin started as a police officer. A very competent and keen police officer. Before her decision to become a medical examiner, she was well on her way to become an inspector. Jane wondered why she gave up her police career to go to medical school though she had completed that with excellent marks.

Her curiosity satisfied, she turned off the background check programme to begin preparing for her mission. Physically there wasn’t much for her to prepare since she had just gotten back from one. She looked up the bar that served for the yakuza headquarters and made sure there was a place where she can do some reconnaissance discretely. She inspected her pistol, made sure everything was functional with it, and holstered it. Her eyes fell upon her glass and its relatively undisturbed content. While she was confident the Scotch didn’t exactly hold a lofty pedigree, it still possessed a quality that she was loath to waste. However, she didn’t want to go to another mission under influence. In the end, she left it open, hoping it wouldn’t spoil while she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Tanner here is in my mind played by Chris Hemsworth, much like his character in the new Ghostbusters. Seem apt, imo.


End file.
